


The Butterfly Effect

by Alpha Ella (Leviarty)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Genie/Djinn, Buffy the Vampire Slayer References, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-14 22:19:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1280884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leviarty/pseuds/Alpha%20Ella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Step on a butterfly and it could destroy a rainforest.</p><p>OR</p><p>Stiles and Lydia land themselves in an alternate universe where things are basically the same except where its TOTALLY DIFFERENT.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was well past midnight when Lydia and Stiles finally found the section of forest the witches had claimed. It probably would have been much quicker with one of the wolves (once they got close, even Stiles could smell that the area had been shrouded in wolfsbane, mountain ash, and a dozen other magical herbs), but they made do on their own while the others handled their own problems.

A campsite had been arranged around an area of a dozen or so trees. It looked like they had tried to clean the place up, but were forced to flee before they could make all evidence vanish.

"I don't think we should go in there, Stiles," Lydia said. "We should wait for the others."

"We'll be fine. Derek and Scott lured two of the witches into a trap in the clinic."

"And the other three?"

"Isaac and the Argents are tracking them through the woods on the other side of town. We'll be fine."

"That's what they always say. Right before being brutally murdered."

"This isn't a horror movie, we're not going to be brutally murdered," Stiles said. Lydia raised an eyebrow. "Okay, so maybe our life is pretty horrific at times. But according to my dad, the seven people that have disappeared haven't exactly been model citizens. They all have arrest records for some pretty bad stuff. Murder, child abuse, rape. But none were ever convicted. So it looks to me like this little coven is after bad people who got away with their crimes. Last I checked, we are good people. We've made a few questionable life choices, but we haven't murdered anybody."

"I hope you're right."

Stiles looked somewhat insulted by the insinuation that he might be wrong, but returned to his investigation of the witches' belongings.

"I wonder what this is," he said, holding up an object that he could think only to compare to a fishing reel with a short wooden spear. Medieval torture device, maybe?

"Stiles," Lydia said. "We're sure there's only five witches, right?"

"Yeah. Deaton seemed pretty sure, anyway."

"And they're all somewhere on the other side of town, miles from here."

"Yeah?"

"Then what do you think that is?"

Stiles turned around just as the creature lunged at them.

*

"Ow," Stiles groaned, as the monster tied his arms around the tree behind him. It appeared to be human-like: two arms, two legs, a head of dark brown hair. It was even dressed like a human. But it's face was covered in fleshy scales. "Hey, you know, I don't know if these are tight enough. I can still feel my thumbs."

"Stiles," Lydia hissed. Do not taunt our captor, went unsaid.

"So, are you another witch or..." Stiles asked, paying no attention to Lydia's misgivings. "Cause the others looked, you know, human. And no offense, but you're fugly."

"Stiles!"

"I apologize for my appearance," the creature said. Its whole body shook for a moment, then the scales disappeared, and she looked like a normal human person, pretty even. "Better?"

"Much."

"What are you?" Lydia asked. "A witch?"

"No. It is true I have allied myself with this particular coven, but I am not one of them. We merely have similar goals, and thought it best to work together to achieve them, for the time being."

"Goals of killing people?" Stiles asked.

"They're not dead. And they deserve what they got."

"Who gave you the right to decide their fate?" Lydia asked.

"Your justice system has failed to punish them accordingly. Sometimes we must take matters into our own hands. We do this for the victims."

Stiles didn't like the insinuation that his father is a failure at his job. In all the cases in question, his dad had been pretty vocal about his opinion that they should all be getting life imprisonment. He knew they were guilty, but the evidence just wasn't there. It wasn't his fault.

"No, perhaps it's not his fault. It's no ones fault. But does that mean they should go unpunished for their crimes?"

"How did you do that?" Stiles asked. The idea that this woman, or whatever she was, could dig around in his thoughts made him very uncomfortable. "What are you?"

"You could say I'm a genie. I am not, but for the sake of easing your confusion, let's say that I am."

"So what does that mean? You grant wishes?" Lydia asked with a hint of skepticism.

"In a manner of speaking."

"Well then, I wish for a pony."

The genie roared, the scales returning for just a moment before she recomposed herself. "Do not mock my power. What I can do goes far beyond conjuring object. I bend reality. I could give you the world, if you wished it."

"Don't make any wishes, Lydia," Stiles warned. "It's dangerous. Deaton has mentioned genie's in our lessons. They twist everything. They give you exactly what you wish for, but it's all wrong. You wish for a pony, and you get a pony that kills everyone you care about, then eats your intestines."

The genie let out a laugh. "Ever the active imagination you have. And you're right, sometimes we have a dark sense of humor. But you're wrong on one count. You don't have to make the wish. I can feel it wrapping itself around your mind, and that's enough." She ran a sharp nail along Lydia's jaw. "You are so obvious," she said. "Wishing me dead. And beneath that there is almost no desire. Nothing fun. But you," she rounded on Stiles, her eyes flashing vibrant green. "You are so filled with darkness. And one desire keeps coming out. I can give you exactly what you want, what you need."

"Please don't," Stiles said, shaking his head.

The last thing he heard her say before everything went black was "I can give you your mother."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of this might sound familiar, if you read chapter one within 30 minutes of when I posted it. I later decided to change where the chapters divided. Sorry for any confusion.

By the time he regained consciousness, the sun was already coming up. He was grateful to find that he was no longer tied to a tree, but he was still in the middle of the forest.

"Shit. Lydia, wake up. Lydia!"

"Whaa?"

"Wake up! We're going to be late to school. Get up."

She sat up blinking in confusion. Stiles reached over to pull a few leaves from her hair. "What happened?" she asked.

"I don't know. The genie is gone. And so is the witches' camp. They must have come in and cleared everything while we were unconscious."

"Why would they just leave us here?" she asked. "Why not take us prisoner?"

Stiles shrugged. "I don't know, but we don't have time to worry about it right now. Do you remember which way we parked?"

She stood up and looked around, trying to remember the way the forest had looked in the dark. "This way."

But when they got to the road, the jeep was nowhwere to be seen.

"I swear it was right here," Lydia said. "It was."

"I know. Mile marker 41. Maybe one of the deputies saw it parked and my dad ha it brought back to the house?"

"Or maybe the witches took it."

"Why would the witches take my car? Don't they have flying brooms or something?"

"I doubt they wanted it for themselves. They probably just wanted to make more trouble for us."

"Those damned witches better not have taken my baby."

"Stiles. Have you ever considered that you have an unhealthy relationship with your car?"

Stiles grumbled and the pair began walking down the road back into town. It was a twenty minute walk to Lydia's house, and even further to Stiles'.

"Give me ten minutes to change and I'll drive your to your place," Lydia offered as she unlocked her front door.

"Thanks," he said, nodding. He threw himself into the couch, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep. His stomach grumbled. Maybe breakfast was more important that sleep.

"Good morning, Stiles," Lydia's mom said when she came down the stairs. "What are you doing here?"

"Lydia is giving me a ride to school."

"Doesn't she usually pick you up from your place?"

"It's been a strange morning, Mrs. Martin."

"It always is with you, isn't it," she said, giving him an odd look. "Well, I have to get to work. Help yourself to the leftovers in the fridge."

Stiles waited until he could hear her car starting before launching himself off the couch and into the kitchen.

*

"Harris is going to kill us," Stiles said, glancing at his watch. They had five minutes to get to class and they hadn't even reached the Stilinski house yet. "I already have two weeks of detention lined up after last weeks fiasco. I'm going to be serving detention when I'm forty."

"I'm sure you'll talk your way out of it somehow," she said. "Look, no jeep," she added as the pulled up to his house. Stiles groaned. The driveway was empty. At least he wouldn't have to explain to his dad where he had been all night. Even knowing the truth about things that go bump in the night, he didn't like Stiles staying out late, especially on school nights. "Don't worry. I'll drive you today, and once school is out, you can have your dad put out a BOLO. I doubt they sent your car to a chop shop or anything. It's kind of a piece of shit."

Stiles whimpered.

"Go!" she exclaimed.

Stiles hopped out of the car and ran up to the house.

"Don't forget deodorant!" Lydia shouted.

Twenty two minutes later they were walking into chemistry with pink slips. Harris took the slips without so much as a nod of acknowledgement, and, in hindsight, that wasn't even the first sign that something was wrong.

*

Stiles met up with Scott just before third period econ. "Hey man," he said. "How'd it go with the witches last night?"

Scott looked at him strangely. "What?"

"The witches. I'm guessing they got away, 'cause they had cleared out their campsite by this morning."

"Are you talking about Legend of Heroes? Dude, you know my mom won't let me play until I get my grades up."

"Legend of - what?"

The warning bell rang and they walked into the classroom, taking their seats near the front of the room.

"Have you seen Allison?" Stiles asked. "She wasn't in first period."

"Who?"

"Allison. You know, the _embodiment of physical perfection, probably descendent of Aphrodite herself_."

"Are you feeling okay? You're acting really weird."

" _I'm_ acting weird?" he said, but his words were drowned out by the bell ringing. Lydia slid into the seat behind Stiles as Scott turned his attention to the front of the room. Stiles, however, let his eyes wander around the room, not sure what he was looking for until he found it.

Isaac was sitting in the back corner of the room, slouched in his chair with his head down, avoiding making eye contact with anyone.

"Alright you little heathens," Coach said. "Stop your incessant chattering and let's get started."

"Something isn't right here," Stiles whispered to Lydia.

Lydia's eyes widened. "You can say that again." She nodded, directing his attention back to the front. When he turned, he saw none other than-

"Jackson," Coach said. "Thank you for gracing us with your presense. Take a seat."

Stiles' jaw dropped as he watched Jackson sit down on the opposite side of the room. He turned back to Lydia. "Did you know he was back?"

Eyes still wide, Lydia shook her head. "I haven't heard from him in months."

Still in shock, neither of them quite heard anything Coach said for the rest of class.

*

"Everything about this day doesn't make sense," Stiles said as he stuffed his face full of french fries at lunch. He and Lydia had grabbed one of the picnic tables outside, and Stiles couldn't help but watch as weird groups sat together. "First Scott was acting weird, and now Jackson is back. And where the hell is Allison? Lydia, are you even listening to me?"

"What? No. Yes, everything is strange."

"What is happening on your phone that is more important than the weirdness of today?"

She frowned. "It's nothing. Just an appointment in my calendar that I don't remember making." She shook her head and set her phone down. "Do you think the witches might have done something more than we realized?"

"I don't know. I don't see how dragging Jackson across an ocean would benefit them, but messing with all our memories certainly would."

*

"Hey, Scott, wait up!" Stiles shouted after his friend.

"I'm gonna be late for lacrosse," Scott said, not slowing down. Stiles sped up to catch him. "Coach is already on my ass about grades, I don't need him bitching about practice too."

"Actually, I wanted to say something about that-"

"I'm not going to try and talk you back onto the team again, Stiles," he said.

"No, it's - what?"

"No offense dude, but you suck at lacrosse. You just get in the way, and then you complain about how much you hate it anyway."

Stiles stopped walked, shocked by his words.

"We'll talk later man," Scott shouted over his shoulder as he walked into the locker room.

Still shocked and confused, Stiles walked back down the hall, meeting up with Lydia near her locker.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Apparently I'm not on the lacrosse team. Which, okay, I don't actually care that much about that, but... Scott was kind of a dick about it."

"I talked to Jackson," Lydia said, unable to keep it to herself without exploding. "Apparently I broke up with him almost two years ago. We don't talk anymore. And he was never in Europe."

"What the hell is going on here?"

"Hey guys," Cora said, walking up behind them.

"Cora. Hi," Stiles said. "I thought you were in South America?"

"Yeah, I thought so too. Tracy already brought Jess and Tyler, but we had to postpone my flight. I'll be leaving this weekend."

"Oh," Stiles said. He was nodding, though she may as well have been speaking Greek because he had no idea what she was talking about. Actually, he might have understood better if she _had_ been speaking Greek.

"Anyway, mom just wanted me to check in with you guys and make sure you're both still on for dinner tonight."

"Um, yeah?" Stiles said, feeling, if possible, more confused.

"Of course we are," Lydia said, maintaining her cool much more effectively.

"Great. See you later then." She smiled at them and walked away.


	3. Chapter 3

"Lydia," he said when he was relatively sure Cora was out of hearing range. "What. The. Hell."

"That mystery appointment suddenly makes more sense," she said, holding her phone out so he could see. In the 7 o'clock block, there was a blue bubble that read "Dinner w/ Hales".

"No, Lydia, it doesn't make sense. I am still very confused."

"Come on, I'll show you."

Stiles followed her out to the lacrosse field, where the team was just lining up. "Remember the genie said she could bend reality?"

"Yeah? What does this have to do with lacrosse, or any of the general weirdness of today?"

"Watch," she pointed out at the field. "Specifically, watch Scott, Jackson, and Isaac."

Jackson was, as always, an exceptionally good player. That was nothing new. Even slightly off his game, he was better than everyone else on the field.

The strangeness was with Scott and Isaac. They weren't particularly _bad_ , but they weren't exceptionally good either. There was nothing even remotely supernatural about their abilities.

*

Lydia drove Stiles home that afternoon, and he was uncharacteristically quiet for the majority of the ride.

"Stiles, I really need you to say something, because I'm freaking out over here and you're silence isn't helping."

"They were never bitten," Stiles said, because it was the only thing he could think about. "They're just normal human people. Not werewolves."

"If the Hales are alive, then there would have been no reason to turn them."

"But how are the Hales alive? How is that possible?"

"Genie."

"Okay, say the genie is behind this, because that's the only thing that makes sense. Why would she bring the Hales back? Why?"

"I don't know Stiles! I don't know. None of this makes any sense."

Stiles took a deep breath. "So if the Hales really are alive... that means Peter didn't go crazy and start killing people, didn't turn Scott. And Derek never became Alpha, which means he never turn Jackson, Isaac, Erica, or Boyd. Jackson never had to leave, and... and Erica and Boyd might still be alive."

"Are alive," Lydia confirmed. "I have class with Erica."

"And if there wasn't a rash of suspicious animal attacks... that means-"

"No Allison," Lydia finished.

"What are we going to do about this?"

"I'm not even sure if there is anything we can do. Don't look at me like that, we're still gonna try. But right now I think we should try to focus on one thing at a time. Apparently we're having dinner with the Hales. And apparently your dad found your car."

Stiles looked up. Sure enough, the jeep was now in the driveway. He breathed a sigh of relief. "At least something about today is going right."

Lydia pulled into the driveway and Stiles got out of the car. "I'll call you if I figure anything out," he said.

She nodded. "See you tonight."

Stiles ran up to the front door, greatly looking forward to embracing the normalcy of his own home for a few hours, but the instant his hand was on the doorknob, he knew that something was wrong.

"Dad?" he called when he opened the door. "Are you home?"

"Stiles?" a voice called back.

He dropped his bag in shock. It was a voice that was distinctly _not_ his fathers.

"Hey honey," his mom said, poking her head out of the kitchen.

"Mom."

"Your dad's still at the station. Did you need something?"

"Um. No. It's no big deal."

"Are you okay, honey?"

Stiles nodded, but he was sure he looked far from okay. "I just wasn't expecting you."

"I know, I realized I had something to pick up for my meeting. Which reminds me: I know I said you could borrow the jeep tonight, but something came up. I have to drive over to Beacon Heights tonight. Will you be okay without it?"

He nodded, not actually sure what he was agreeing to.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, feeling his forehead with the back of her hand.

"I'm fine. It's just been a weird day."

"You have a lot of those, don't you?" she asked with a smile.

Stiles nodded again, her words barely registering in his mind. She gave him a strange look mixed with a smile as she walked back into the kitchen. He considered following her, saying all the things he wanted to say, but he had no idea where he would begin. How could he say all the things he was thinking without telling her that, where he was from, she was... dead?

So instead he walked toward the stairs, taking note of all the things he hadn't had time to notice that morning. The wall along the stairs was lined with photos, much like it was in his home, but these pictures featured a lot more recent ones of him and his mom. There were several from birthday parties from his childhood, and he immediately recognized the red-headed girl in most of them as Lydia. There were even some recent ones of him and Lydia and a few with Danny or Cora or Heather. Scott was there too, but he wasn’t in as many as Stiles felt like he should have been.

He spent half an hour staring at the pictures, trying to wrap his head around the fact that, in this alternate universe or _whatever_ , his mom was alive and well and downstairs.

"Stiles?" Her voice broke him out of his thoughts. "I'm heading out now. You're dad's working a double, so he won't be in until morning, and I'll be gone until tomorrow afternoon. Do you need anything before I go?"

"No. I'll be fine."

"I left some money on the counter for pizza, if you need it."

"Thanks, mom. Have a good trip."

He wasn't sure how long it was after she left that his brain finally caught up with his surroundings. He dashed up the stairs and all but trashed his room in a wild search for answers.

What he found was more questions.

"Hey, Lydia," he said when she answered her phone. "It looks like I'm going to need a ride tonight after all. My mom needed the jeep."

" _Stiles, you're mom is..._ "

"Yeah, apparently not. And that's not even the strangest thing," he said. He looked at the photo booth pictures in his hand, biting his lip. "I think I'm dating Derek Hale."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you worried that I won't finish this: I can't promise that I will, because life happens. But, to put your minds to ease, I have already written the first six chapters, and I'm quickly writing more. I already have a pretty good idea of where I'm going. I don't have an estimate of how long it will be, because I honestly have no idea how long I will end up dragging this out, but I absolutely don't want to leave this one hanging, so I'm trying my hardest to finish it :)


	4. Chapter 4

"Are you okay?" Lydia asked when he got into her car that evening.

"I'm fine. Totally great, in fact. My entire life just got turned upside down, but I'm awesome."

Instead of pulling back out of the driveway, Lydia turned off the car.

"What are you doing?"

"What's she like?"

"My mom?" Lydia nodded. "She's... she smells exactly the way I remember. I only talked to her for a few minutes. I didn't even know what to say. I still don't know. God, how is this even possible?"

"Genie," Lydia reminded him. "In fact, I would argue that your mom is the root of all the other changes."

"What?"

"That was your wish, wasn't it? That she was alive?"

Stiles shrugged. "I mean, yeah. I didn't wish it. But it’s what I wanted. It’s kind of hard not to."

"You didn't need to say it out loud. The genie knew your thoughts. The last thing I remember before waking up this morning was her saying-"

" _'I can give you your mother'._ "

"Yeah."

"But how? How does my wish to have her back turn into the Hales being alive too?"

"The butterfly effect," Lydia said. "Everything has consequences. If you go back in time and step on a butterfly thirty years ago, the consequences could lead to the destruction of a rainforest that should be here today."

"Ugh. I am going to have the world's biggest headache."

"In the interest of full disclosure, I should probably tell you what mind boggling weirdness I learned while I was home." She slipped her hand between the seats and pulled out a polaroid.

"Is this what I think it is?" Stiles asked.

"Yep," she said, turning her attention toward turning on the car.

"Oh my god!" he exclaimed in outrage. "This is _so_ not okay. What the hell?"

*

Having frequented the ruins of the Hale house in the months following Scott becoming a werewolf, Stiles thought he had an idea of what it would look like in its prime. But nothing could have prepared him for sight as they pulled up the long, well kept driveway.

“Wow,” he said, his mouth falling open in awe. Lydia, on the other hand, did not seem surprised at all.

“It’s almost exactly how it was in my hallucinations,” she said, answering his unasked question.

The house was white and huge. He realized now that when Derek said things about how much room there was for his  big family, he wasn't just romanticizing the past. A decent portion of the house was literally lost in the fire. But here it was in all it's glory, whole, and white, and beautiful.

Lydia followed the driveway around behind the house, and parked it with the half dozen cars that were already there.

They got out of the car, both shaking with nerves (though Stiles was certain Lydia was maintaining herself better, she always did). Before they even made up the front step, someone opened the door.

"You're late," she said in an accusatory tone. Stiles immediately recognized her as Laura Hale. It was hard to forget her face, and even know he couldn't wash the image of her dead body from his mind.

"Sorry," Lydia said, sounding legitimately apologetic, while Stiles sorted through a dozen excuses, before reminding himself that he shouldn't lie with so many wolves around.

"It's okay," Laura shrugged. "Mom and dad have been freaking out over the food, so I don't even think they've realized what time it is. Come on in."

When she turned her back on them, Lydia shot Stiles a questioning look.

'Laura,' he mouthed silently back.

They were only a few steps into the foyer when a child’s voice screeched out a battle cry. A few moments later, the child in question came running down the hall. And then there was Derek, scooping her off the ground. He carried her the rest of the way down the hall.

"'Bout time you guys got here," he said. "Kase, you remember Lydia, right?"

"Lydia!" the girl shouted gleefully.

"And this is Stiles," Derek introduced. "Stiles, this is my little sister, Kasey."

Kasey stared at him with narrowed eyes. "He's so tiny," she said. "You could crush him with your bare hands." She made squishing motions with her fists. Stiles felt like he should have been at least a little offended, but it was probably the cutest thing he'd ever seen, and thus found it hard to do anything but laugh along with the others.

Derek shifted Kasey onto his hip, and reached out with his free hand to take Stiles'. This took Stiles by surprise, but went along with it. They had agreed during the car ride over that they should try to keep a low profile, at least until they figured out what was going on.

"You okay?" Derek asked. "I know you're been worried about tonight."

Stiles nodded. "I'm fine. No big deal, right?"

Derek offered him a smile, and Stiles was pretty sure that it would have been the strangest thing he had ever seen, if it hadn't been for how the rest of the day had gone.

*

Stiles wasn't exactly accustomed to large family gatherings. Even when his mom was alive, it was only ever the three of them. Most of his grandparents were dead and he didn't have any aunts or uncles. Recently, pack gatherings had become an almost weekly thing, but there was something much different about a bunch of teens sitting around a few boxes of pizza compared to an actual, honest to god, home cooked family dinner.

"We tried to keep dinner small tonight," Mrs. Hale said as they all sat down at the large table. Stiles almost laughed out loud. There were nine people, including himself and Lydia. How big was the Hale pack?

"We didn't want to dump all of the family crazy on you at once," Laura added.

"Clearly we failed at keeping it small, and there is still time for crazy," Mr. Hale said with a wink.

"That's okay," Lydia said. "I'm not very close with my family. I think it's nice that you all are."

They spent the rest of the meal talking mostly about Stiles and Lydia, asking question that neither of them was quite sure they were answering correctly.

"Let me do you kids a favor," Mr. Hale said when it became clear that they were getting uncomfortable. He directed his attention to Cora. "So tell us about this boy you're courting."

Cora turned bright red. "I'm not _courting_ him."

"Fine. Romancing. Seducing. Dating. Whatever you want to call it."

" _Dad_. We're not dating!" she said. "I'm not even sure if he's interested."

"Well then he's stupid. You're a beautiful young woman," Mr. Hale said. Cora groaned.

"Oooh," Laura said with a cackle. "I can't believe you haven't told me about him. Is he cute?"

Cora tried to bury her face in the tablecloth.

"How about you tell everyone about the girl you're interested in," Peter said with a mischievous grin.

Laura gaped at him. "I trusted you!"

"Well that was your first mistake," Lydia said, earning a round of laughter from the table.

"Come on, Laura, tell us," Mrs. Hale said.

Laura groaned, turning slightly pink, but was not nearly as embarrassed as her sister had been. "She's one of my students," she said. Stiles briefly wondered what grade she taught. "I teach at Beacon Heights University," she said, seeming to have read his mind. "She's a freshman in my honors biochem class."

Stiles quickly did the math in his head and, momentarily forgetting that he was in a room of mostly werewolves, muttered something under his breath that sounded like "Pedowolves."

Mrs. Hale laughed. "I understand how it may look from your position. I'm sure Derek has explained to you that wolves age differently than normal humans." He hadn't, at least not to Stiles' recollection, but Cora and Peter had certainly hinted at it. "Its not unusual for us to choose a mate much younger than you might think is acceptable."

"Talia is seventeen years my senior," Mr. Hale said. Stiles was more than a little bothered by this, as he was seventeen, which made their age difference roughly the same as the difference between him and a newborn.

"Yeah, this girl is, at most, 10 years younger than me. It doesn't seem to bother her though. We've gone out for coffee a few times, and she frequently comes to office hours, despite the fact that she has one of the highest grades in the class. I'm pretty sure she wants _this_ ," Laura said, indicating to her body.

"Never let it be said that Hales don't have a type," Peter said. "Human and highly intelligent." He grinned and winked at Lydia, which Stiles found profoundly disturbing.


	5. Chapter 5

In the spirit of making everyone present as uncomfortable as possible, Mrs. Hale gathered them around a photo album in the living room after dinner.

"Can we _not_ pull out the baby photos?" Derek asked, a pleading tone in his voice.

"I'm sure you were an adorable baby," Stiles said with a grin.

"I'm 100% sure that I don't care," Derek replied, pulling Stiles into his lap.

"We'll save the baby pictures for another day," Mrs. Hale said. She flipped several pages into the album. "But bad haircuts from middle school years are fair game." She showed Stiles a picture of Derek with a buzzcut. Some people just needed hair, and Derek was definitely one of those people. He laughed out loud, earning a glare from Derek.

"You gave me that haircut," he said.

"Yes, because Peter stuck a wad of gum in your hair and there was no salvaging it." It was Peter's turn to be glared at.

Mrs. Hale showed them several more embarrassing pictures before Laura interjected. "Oh, here's a good one." She held up one of her, Peter, and Derek.

"Oh, this one is from Peru," Peter said, taking the picture to examine it.

"It actually is a good picture, isn't it," Derek said.

"What's in Peru?" Stiles asked.

"My great grandparents came here from Peru," Talia said. "There is a lot of werewolf history there, so we make sure to bring all of our cubs there when they are coming of age."

"And Sam is in this one," Laura said, holding up another group picture.

"Our cousin," Derek supplied for Stiles. "He only joined us for a couple days. Since he's human, it wasn't as important for him to be there."

"Which is not to say our humans aren't important," Mrs. Hale said. "Just different."

*

"All right, you crazy kids," Laura said. "It's getting late and I have class first thing in the morning, so I think I'm gonna head home. It was nice seeing you two again," she said, giving Stiles and Lydia a hug. "Behave yourself," she said to Derek. "And there is nothing I can say to you to change your ways, so I won't even try," she said to Peter. She walked away to say goodnight to her parents, who had left to put little Kasey in bed and never returned.

"We'll, I'm certainly not going to hang around and be the fifth wheel to you lovebirds," Cora said. She left the the four of them sitting on the back porch.

"Hey, you sure you're okay?" Derek asked. Stiles was sitting next to him, with his head resting on his shoulder. He had been uncharacteristically quiet for several minutes.

"I'm fine," he said. "Just a headache." It wasn't a lie.

"Do you want me to take you home?" Lydia asked, reaching for her purse.

"No, I'll drive him. You two can hang out a while longer."

Lydia nodded and put her bag back down.

"You sure?" Stiles asked.

"I'll be fine," Lydia assured him. "You should get some rest."

Derek took Stiles hand and guided him around the house and into the passenger seat of his Camaro.

"I'm sorry if my parents were obnoxious and overbearing," Derek said once they were a ways from the house.

"It's not that," Stiles said. "Your parents are great." He actually really liked the Hales. He found himself wishing, for a moment, that this really was his life, before he remembered that wishing was exactly how he got himself into this mess in the first place.

"How are things with your parents? Everyone okay?"

"Yeah, of course." Why would anything be wrong with them?

"Then what's bugging you?"

"It's nothing."

Derek gave him a look that clearly said he didn't believe him. "You know I can tell when you're lying."

"I know. I just. I can't talk about it, alright?"

"Yeah, okay," Derek nodded. "But you know you can always talk to me if you need to, right?"

"I know."

"No one is home," Derek said a few minutes later when they pulled up to Stiles' house.

"Mom's in Beacon Heights, Dad is on the night shift."

"You'll be okay on your own? I can stay, if you want."

Stiles wanted to say yes, to drag Derek into his bed and kiss him, _a lot_. He wanted to fall asleep holding tightly too him. But saying yes would have felt so wrong. This wasn't his world, he didn't belong here. And it was bad enough he was pretending to be a Stiles he wasn't, he couldn't use that lie to get Derek into his bed.

"I'm a big boy, I think I'll be okay."

"Alright." Derek leaned over and kissed him. Stiles tried to cover up his shock, but he never was very good at hiding his emotions. Derek looked at him with a combination of confusion and worry, but didn't say anything more than "call me if you need anything?"

"Of course. Good night," Stiles said, then climbed out of the car in the least graceful manner possible.

Once inside the house, he shut the door, locked it, then threw himself against it, sliding down to the ground, where he buried his face in his hands until several minutes after he heard Derek drive away.

When he finally found the will to move, he dashed up the stairs and into his room. What he _wanted_  to do was get some rest like everyone suggested, but what he did instead was pop an adderall and open his laptop.

He had to find a way to get out of this warped universe before he started to like it too much and lost the will to leave.


	6. Chapter 6

At 6:06 the next morning, Stiles called Lydia to give her an update on what he had learned.

"Stiles?" she answered, sounding groggy like he'd maybe woken her up. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"6:07. I assumed you would be awake and getting ready for school."

Lydia groaned.

"I now realize that I was wrong. Sorry."

"What do you want, Stiles?"

"Did you know there are over two hundred types of genie? According to the internet anyway, which admittedly isn't the most reliable of resources, but it's not like I can just go up to Deaton and say _Hey, I don't actually know if we've met, but I need some information from you_. Anyway, there are ridiculously many legends, but a lot of them are fairly similar. Have you heard of a Djinn?"

"Stiles. How much adderall have you had?"

Stiles was silent for a moment. "Some. More than a little. Okay, maybe a lot. But I've learned so much-"

"Did you sleep at all last night?"

" _Yes!_ " he said, insulted at the insinuation that he pulled an all-nighter. Again. "A little bit anyway. Okay, no, not really."

" _Stiles._ "

"There is no time for sleep, Lydia. We have to find a way out of this place. In order to do that, we have to figure out what we're dealing with."

"Hmm. I'm surprised at you. I thought you would like it here."

"I _do_ like it here, and that's the problem. What surprises me is that you seem to like it, too. You're the one that is apparently in a committed relationship with psychotic murder wolf."

"He's not so bad in this universe. Not psychotic, just a little unstable. He's actually kind of sweet though."

"Alright, I'm going to hang up now. I'll talk to you at school after I'm finished bleaching my brain."

He hung up with her and turned his attention back to the dozen or so tabs of research on his computer.

"Stiles?" his dad called out forty five minutes later when he got home.

"Yeah dad?"

"Just wondering if you were still here."

"Yep. I'll be leaving soon. How was your shift?"

"Long and exhausting. But I've got the next two days off, so plenty of time to sleep it off. Will you be home for dinner tonight?"

"Oh, um." Stiles thought about it for a moment. "I'm not sure yet. Probably not though. Lydia and I have a research thing to work on. But if you need me to be home early, I can-"

"No, it's alright. Maybe we can do breakfast tomorrow?"

"Sure thing."

"I'm gonna hit they hay. Have a good day at school, kid."

*

Finding time to talk to Lydia about their situation is virtually impossible during the school day. Too many people in the way, and not enough time in between classes.

"Let's just wait until after school get's out," she said at lunch.

"Am I interrupting something?" Danny asked, joining them at the picnic table.

"Yes," the said in unison.

"Too bad. I need the notes I missed from yesterday."

"Yeah, where were you, dude?" Stiles asked as Lydia pulled out her binder and pulled out the notes from classes they shared.

"I told you I was going to be out for testing. The doctors don't think I'm going to need surgery again. Not yet anyway."

"Well that's good," Stiles said, though he had no idea what surgery he was referring to.

"Yeah, but it looks like I won't be able to play lacrosse for a few more months."

"You're too good for them anyway," he said, still bitter about how Scott had treated him.

"Aint that the truth."

Lydia opened one of her textbooks and started on her math homework, and Danny started copying her notes. Stiles, overcome with sudden tiredness, laid his head on the table.

"You okay over there?" Lydia asked.

"Adderall is wearing off," he said.

"You know that research shows that prolonged amphetamine use can lead to erectile dysfunction, right?" Danny said.

"Thank you for thinking about my penis, Danny. That's sweet of you."

"I'm thinking about your overall health and I figured fear of the health of your penis was the only way to show you that you have a problem that needs to be addressed."

"I do have a problem. It's called ADHD, and it's being addressed with prescription drugs."

"Whatever dude. Don't complain to me when you're twenty-five and you can't get it up."

A few minutes later, Stiles noticed Cora walking across the courtyard. He nudged Lydia with his foot and pointed her in Cora's direction. Lydia hummed as Cora sat down with Boyd, smiling in a way she never did in their world.

"Makes kind of sense," Stiles said. Lydia nodded.

*

"Alright everyone," Mr. Yukimura said when the bell rang signaling the beginning of class. "We're going to split into pairs today. No, Mr. Mahealani, you cannot have a group of three. _Pairs_."

"It's fine," Stiles said. "You two pair up. I have something else in mind."

When Mr. Yukimura finished explaining their assignment and told them to pair off, Stiles moved to the back of the class and sat down in front of Isaac.

"Wanna be partners?" he asked.

Isaac looked up at him like maybe he had grown an extra head. "Aren't you usually with Lydia Martin?"

"Usually. Not today. If you're cool with that, I mean."

"I... sure, I guess."

"Great." Stiles offered him a wide smile, which did nothing to reassure him that this wasn't some huge joke.

*

"So what was that with Isaac earlier?" Lydia asked on the way home that afternoon.

"Just being friendly."

"Bullshit."

"Alright, fine. He's got bruising on his wrists and a black eye that's mostly healed, but definately still visible. His dad is still hitting him, and I can't just... I can't."

"Stiles. You know this isn't our world. We can't go around putting our noses in places we don't belong."

"When have I ever listened to people who tell me I shouldn't do something? That's right, never."

"What are you even going to do?"

"I don't know yet, but I have to do _something_."

He looked for a moment like he had more to say, but the words never make it too his mouth. Instead his head falls against the passenger window.

"Stiles?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you really just fall asleep?"

"What? No."

"You did. I'm driving you home. We'll talk about genies once you've had a good eight hours rest."

"But I learned all sorts of important things. I have to tell you."

"You can't tell me if you keep falling asleep on me."

A few minutes later they pulled into his driveway. Lydia walked him into the house and up the stairs to his room to make sure he actually went to sleep.

Of course, he still tried to sit down at his computer.

"No you don't," she said, dragging him. "Bed now, research later."

"All I was gonna do is email my notes to you."

"You can give me the gist of it later. Bed now."

"Ughh fine. You know, there was a time when you getting me into bed was all I thought about. I'm not sure when that changed," he said as he started to doze off again.

"Where do you keep the adderall?"

"Top right. I wonder if this Stiles had a huge crush on you. Or did he always know he preferred boys?"

Lydia reached into the desk drawer and retrieved the bottle. "I'll give this back later," she said.

"Mmkay."

"Sleep well, Stiles."

He was too far gone to reply.


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles awoke just after 11 o'clock feeling surprisingly well rested. So that's what eight to nine of sleep felt like.

He reached for his phone, which Lydia had thought to put on the charger before she left, and tumbled out of bed in the process.

7 New Texts.

From Lydia, _6:45_ **I’ve done some research of my own. Call me when you wake up and we can swap theories.**

From Scott at _3:06_ **Hey bro can we have a study thing tonight?** and then at _3:45_ **c’mon man, I’m gonna fail this test on friday** and finally, at _5:02_ **or you can totally ignore me thats cool**.

And from Derek: _3:31_ **You busy tonight?** _3:40_ **I was thinking we could go see that movie you’ve been talking about.** _4:16_ **Are you mad at me?**

Stiles quickly hit reply to Derek. **Sorry, I fell asleep after school. Of course i’m not mad!**

He sent a quick apology to Scott as well, promising that they could study tomorrow afternoon.

By the time he finished typing a message to Lydia, asking if she was still awake, Derek had texted him back.

 **Did you sleep at all last night?** he asked.

 **Yes?** Stiles answered. Hardly enough time passed for Derek to have received the message before Stiles phone was ringing.

“Hey?”

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Nice to hear from you too.”

"Stiles," Derek said, and yep, there was the growl he was familiar with.

"I just got wrapped up in a research thing and it slipped my mind."

"Stiles, you have got to get sleep."

"I did! I slept a whole eight hours. Closer to nine, actually."

"Good. Maybe next you can learn how to sleep _at night_."

Stiles considered telling him that, technically, much of his sleep had occurred at night, but he figured it wouldn't help matters.

"Have you eaten?" Derek asked.

"I was about to go down and check the fridge."

"Don't bother, I'll bring you something."

"You don't have to-" he started to say, but Derek had already hung up. "Okay."

Less than fifteen minutes later he got a text telling him to come downstairs. When Stiles opened the front door, Derek was standing there holding a bag of Chinese food.

He added 'seeing Derek walk through the front door' to the ever growing list of weird things.

*

Stiles woke up a little past five the next morning with an unfamiliar heavy weight draped over his side. He shifted to get a better look at the deadweight trapping him in bed. Derek.

Right, dinner. Followed by some pointless conversation, and cuddling. Apparently Derek was a cuddler. He wondered if the same was true of his Derek.

 _No_. _Stop_. He scrubbed that thought from his mind before it got the chance to run wild.

Carefully, he maneuvered himself out from under Derek's arm and sat down to his computer.

"Come back to bed," Derek mumbled, giving no other appearance that he was awake.

"I have spent at least twelve of the last twenty four hours sleeping. I think I'm good. Besides, I have to be at school in... two hours."

Derek pouted, but seemed to go back to sleep.

Homework was probably a thing that Stiles should have been working on, and he tried, really, but it was inevitable that he found himself back to researching wish granting spirits.

"Why are you researching djinni?" Derek asked, causing Stiles to fall out of his chair. He hadn't realized Derek was even awake, let alone standing right behind him.

Stiles shrugged, searching for an answer that wouldn't sound like a lie to werewolf ears. He finally settled for "Do you know anything about them?"

Derek leaned over Stiles' shoulder once he was back in his chair. "Not much. I know there are a few different kinds. I could ask my mom, if you're that interested."

Yes, he would like very much to get information from a reliable source, but instead he shrugged it off as nothing to worry about.

His phone chimed.

From Lydia, **Can we meet before school?**

Reply: **Sure. When?**

**Now?**

Stiles turned to Derek. "I need to meet Lydia before school. It won't hurt your big werewolf feelings if I ditch you, will it?"

"I think I'll be okay. You want me to drop you off at her place? I'll be headed that way."

Stiles sent a text to Lydia, **Meet at your place in 10 minutes?**

*

"Thanks for the ride," Stiles said twelve minutes later as he got out of the Camaro. "And thanks for dinner. And for making me sleep. I probably needed that."

"Well, if you're not going to take care of yourself, someone has to."

"You're good at it."

He mentally kicked himself as he walked up the steps to the front door. He should not be getting this comfortable with a Derek Hale alternate universe.

"What were you doing with Derek at 5:45 in the morning?" Lydia asked, opening the door before he knocked.

"He spent the night. Don't give me that look, it was nothing but innocent. He brought me dinner and made sure I slept. Apparently he's a very good boyfriend."

"That's good. You might have to get used to it," she said, leading up to her room.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Tell me what you're theory is first."

"I actually have two. Remember I said there are like a bajillion legends about genies and the like?" Stiles had narrowed it down to two basic types. The djinn created illusions in the minds of their victims, making it seem like their deepest wishes had been granted, when in reality they were being held captive. The djinn fed on the energy of the illusion until it eventually killed the victim. A human could usually only survived three to six weeks in the illusion, though to them it could feel like anything from a few days to a few years.

The other type, which Stiles referred to as 'Reality Creators' or 'Abusers of the Multiverse', could literally manipulate past events to create a new reality as they wanted it. Unlike the djinn, their primary goal was nothing more than to cause mischief.

"If it's a djinn, there is almost nothing we can do from inside the dream," Stiles said. "We just have to wait to be rescued. Or die, whichever comes first. But if its something else, if this is all real and we're just trapped in the wrong world... I don't even know where to begin on how to get us out."

"I have a third possibility," Lydia said when he finished explaining. "It goes along with the mischief makers, but-" She stopped and bit her lip, unsure how best to say it. "As much as we like to think we know about quantum physics - and by we I mean humanity as a whole - the truth is we know next to nothing about how the universe works. The multiverse is just an idea, a hypothesis that gives physicists wet dreams."

"What are you getting at?"

"It's possible that when past events were changed to create the universe we're in now... _our_ universe may have been destroyed. We might be stuck here. Forever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick update on the status of things: I have written through chapter ten, and my planning suggest that there will be between 14 and 17 chapters total.
> 
> Also, you may have noticed that the rating changed from T to M. A future chapter will contain a scene that drifts into the mature side of things. If you're not into that sort of thing (but lets be honest, you are), there will be a heads up when that chapter comes along.
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


	8. Chapter 8

Stiles wasn’t so willing to accept that they were just stuck here. Lydia wasn’t either, of course, but she reminded him that they might have to get used to their present situation. They weren’t necessarily in it for the long haul, but they also had no idea how to get themselves out, or how long it would take.

So he ran with it. He went on dates with Derek, and had dinner with his mom and pretended everything was normal. He spent time at the Hales, and tried to get along with Peter since apparently they were kind of friendly or something.

He spent a little bit of time with Scott, only to realize that, in this universe, they were barely friends anymore. Because apparently Scott was a dick in this universe. Or maybe they both were. It didn't matter though, because the fact that they weren't close still _hurt_.

And sometimes he could hear his parents fighting at night, when they think he's gone to sleep. He realized it was probably normal. Parents fought sometimes, right? It didn't stop him from curling up in his bed with a pillow over his ears, trying not to cry.

At first glance, this world looked kind of fantastic. His mom was alive, and the Hale fire never happened. This Stiles seemed like he had a happy, simple life. But even with the circumstances seeming perfect, things still had a tendency to be kind of shitty.

So on day seven, the Monday after they first arrived in the bizarro universe, as Stiles had taken to calling it, he made a decision. If he had to be stuck here for any length of time, he might as well help someone else out of their shitty circumstances.

So he invited Isaac over after school.

As they walked up to the house, Stiles could hear loud arguing come from inside. It was a moment before he realize that the raised voices belonged to his parents. Were they _fighting?_

They immediately went silent when they heard the front door open and close, and a moment later, Claudia was sticking her head out of the kitchen to greet him.

"How was your day, Sweetie? Oh, you've brought a friend. Hello," she said with a pleasant smile.

"I'm good mom. This is Isaac."

"Hello, Isaac," his dad said, appearing out of the kitchen. He frowned. "What happened to your eye?"

Isaac paled a little. His eye didn't look too bad compared to the past few days; it was almost completely healed, unlike the marks on his wrists. "Oh, uh. Lacrosse," he said.

"You're on the lacrosse team?" the sheriff asked. "Stiles used to play."

"Used to sit on the bench," Stiles corrected. "As _someone_ has been far too keen to point out, I suck at lacrosse."

"Is that _someone_ Scott?" his mom asked. "Are you boys still fighting? You used to be such good friends."

"I don't even know, Mom. Listen, we should get started on our project."

"Have fun," his dad said as Stiles led Isaac up the stairs.

*

"You hungry? I'm hungry. How do you feel about pizza?" Stiles asked a while later.

Isaac shrugged. "Sure."

"Great. What do you like? I like pineapples, but most people think that's really weird."

"I'm cool with pineapples."

Stiles pulled his laptop over and ordered. When the doorbell rang twenty three minutes later, the delivery boy was carrying three pizza boxes, two smaller boxes, and a two liter of sprite.

"I may have gone a little overboard," Stiles said, trying to carry all of the food, plus cups and paper plates, into his room. Isaac jumped to his feet to help, saving the soda from tumbling to the ground. "Thanks."

"Why are you being so nice?" Isaac asked a few minutes later, taking a slice of pepperoni.

"Can't a guy just be friendly?"

"Not a guy like you. Not to me. I didn't even think you knew my name."

Stiles sighed. "I know your bruises aren't from lacrosse. I know your dad hurts you."

Isaac paled. "You don't-"

"I know it's none of my business. But it isn't right. If you want me to butt out and mind my own business, just say so. But I'll probably ignore you because I hate what he's doing and I want to help you." Stiles knew he was probably stepping way over the line, but sometimes he just couldn't help it. "Please let me help you."

Isaac was completely silent, and for a moment, so was Stiles.

"How do you think you can help me?" Isaac asked. "Just because you dad is sheriff doesn't mean you can do anything."

"I can try."

Isaac shook his head.

Neither of them had heard the doorbell ring again, didn't head Lydia shout a hello to Claudia, nor her footsteps as she ran up the stairs. She was just suddenly standing in the doorway, breathing heavily.

"Stiles, I have- Oh, hello Isaac. I didn't realize you were here."

"I was just leaving," he said, getting to his feet.

"You don't have to," Stiles said, also standing. "We can forget that conversation and just go back to history homework."

"No thanks, I don't want to play third wheel to you and your girlfriend."

"Oh my god, she is _not_ my girlfriend," Stiles said, surprising himself a little. There was a time he would have jumped at the chance to be Lydia's boyfriend, pretend or not. Now it just seemed weird.

"You're not?" Isaac asked, eyebrow raised. "I always thought-"

"We kind of just let the rumors run," Lydia said quickly. "We're both kind of... dating people who are older than is generally accepted. It's easier for everyone if people if we just let them think we're dating each other."

"Hm. Ookay."

"It's totally fine if you stay," Lydia assured him. "You should stay."

"No, I should be getting home anyway."

Stiles nodded slowly. "I'll walk you out."

"Thanks for pizza," Isaac said when they reached the front door.

"Anytime, dude. And I'm sorry if I crossed a line."

"Are you? Sorry?"

"No. Not really. I'm serious, Isaac. If you need _anything_ , just call me. Or my dad. We can help you."

*

"So what's up?" Stiles asked when he got back to his room. Lydia had made herself at home in his bed with a slice of cheese pizza.

"I've been doing some research I thought you might be interested in."

"Have you found us a way out of here?!"

"Not exactly." She handed him a folder he hadn't even realized she'd been carrying. "I've been doing research on _us_. The us that belongs in this universe."

Stiles skimmed the first few pages of the document she had compiled. It was mostly little details, things about themselves and their friends that were slightly different from their own memories. "Lydia, what is this?"

"Everything we need to know to fit in without people getting suspicious."

"Why does it seem like you're preparing to settle in for the long haul?"

"I'm not. We're still working on how to get out of here, but in the meantime... there are only so many simple facts we can get wrong before people start to realize there is something wrong with us. Let's start with your parents. It looks like your dad was made sheriff here around the same time as he was in our universe."

Stiles looked at the page dedicated to his dad and nodded, confirming that the date was almost the same.

"You mom was a math teacher at Beacon Hills Middle until about three years ago."

"She taught high school in our universe," Stiles commented.

"Now she's the Assistant Director of the Beacon County School Board."

"Good for her," he said with a smile.

"And then I have some not so good news." Lydia scrunched her face in thought. "Page 47." Stiles flipped through the folder. For a moment, he wasn't sure what he was looking at. "Stiles, I think your parents are getting a divorce."


	9. Chapter 9

These were the things Stiles knew to be true, as of one week ago:

  1.       Scott McCall, his best friend, was a werewolf.
  2.       Derek Hale was a grumpy (albeit attractive) werewolf who had lost his family in a fire over 7 years ago.
  3.       Stiles' mom died almost eight years ago.
  4.       His dad loved his mom until the day she died, and never stopped loving her after.



Now... Stiles didn't know anything. Lydia had given him the folder full of facts about this universe, but he couldn't read any of it. Not since she told him his parents were getting divorced. And he... he just didn't know what to do. He wanted to scream.

He cried instead.

When the doorbell rang for the fourth time that day, Stiles didn't move. Someone else would answer it.

It rang again. And again.

Finally, Stiles forced himself off his bedroom floor and down the stairs.

"Hi, Derek," he said when he answered the door. He was unable to hide the sadness in his eyes, and too tired to even bother trying.

"Are you okay?" Derek asked, his face soft with worry.

"I'm fine," Stiles said, his voice betraying his words.

"You've been crying."

Stiles brought his palms to his face, whether to hide behind them, or to will away more tears he didn't know. He didn't see Derek move, only felt his strong arms wrap around him.

"Let's get you upstairs," Derek said. Stiles nodded, but made no effort to move.

He wasn't sure how he eventually got upstairs, but there he was, curled up under a pile of blankets, and there was Derek bringing him a warm cup of cocoa. Stiles sat up to drink some of the cocoa, then laid back down in Derek's lap, setting the mug on his nightstand.

"You don't have to stay," he said to Derek.

"Do you want me to stay?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm staying."

Stiles smiled and clung tighter to him. If there was one thing in this stupid universe didn't fuck up, it was _this_.

*

"We've exhausted all our resources," Lydia said, as their second week in bizarro 'verse came to a close. "We need some new ones. Or old ones. What would we do if we ran into trouble in our universe?"

"Go to Scott," Stiles said without a second thought. "But he's not really an option. And he would probably just go to Deaton, but we've already established that he isn't an option either." In this universe, Deaton had died seven years ago. If these Hales had an Emissary, Stiles and Lydia hadn't been able to uncover who it was.

"Okay, so if our Scott was the one in danger, what would we do? Who would we go to?"

"I don't know. The Argents? But they're not here, and I'm pretty sure calling them up and saying 'hey, you don't know us, but we're from an alternate universe and oh yeah, we're friends with werewolves' would go over swell."

"I think we would leave out the werewolves part. And no. You're overlooking the obvious."

"Who could I possibly be- oh."

"Who is the first person you go to when Scott's in trouble?" she asked, knowing he already had the answer.

"Derek." He sighed. "And Peter, but only by association."

"He's not so bad in this universe."

"Yeah, I suppose. Did you know I spent a whole hour _hanging out_ with him the other day, and I never wanted to punch him. Not even once. How weird is that."

"I told you. He might even be willing to help us out."

"Hang on, I got roped into hanging out with him because of Kasey. Why are you spending time with him?"

"We're dating, Stiles."

"Yeah, but not _really_."

"Yes, really. From his perspective, we have been dating for months. I can't just not talk to him, it would be incredibly suspicious."

Stiles shuddered. "It's still weird."

She shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, in our universe it would be weird, after everything that's happened. But here... I don't know. I can see why this Lydia would be with him. He's a little dark, but mostly he's sweet. And even you must have noticed he's nice to look at."

Stiles gagged. Then he frowned, a sudden, unwelcome possibility occurring to him. "Please, please for the love of all things holy, please tell me you did not have sex with him."

"Oh, don't be such a prude. It's just sex."

"OH MY GOD." Stiles was on his feet, looking like he was debating between making a run for it or bashing Lydia's head in.

"Do you need a few minutes to bleach your brain?" she asked.

"There is not enough bleach in the world." He paced back and forth from one corner of the room.

"Don't think I haven't seen what you've been doing with Derek," Lydia said, more matter-of-fact than defensive.

"Not sex!"

"And I don't get why not. You like him, you're dating him. Why deny yourself the simple pleasures in life?"

"Okay, first of all, we have been here for all of eleven days, which means I hve been dating him for eleven days."

Lydia rolled her eyes. Some people were so weird about sex.

"And second, he's not..."

"Not your Derek," Lydia finished after a moment of silence passes.

"Derek's not _my_ Derek."

"But he's not your Derek."

"Yeah. It's just... not the same. Can we not talk about this anymore? You acted like you had a solution for this predicament, and after your latest confession, I would like to put a rush on that solution."

"It's not a solution. Not for sure, anyway. I think we should tell them."

"Tell who, what?"

"Derek and Peter. Well, maybe not both of them. But their family knows a lot about the supernatural. They can tell us what the internet can't. Maybe they can help."

"That sounds like a terrible idea. What do you think they will do when they find out we've been impersonating their Stiles and Lydia?"

"Hopefully? They'll help us. Realistically? They probably won't be happy. Which is why I suggest only one of us tells. That way if they cut off ties, one of us will still be able to fish for answers."

"Okay. I volunteer you," Stiles said.

"You just don't want your precious Derek to be mad at you."

"He's not- Ugh, I just don't fancy having my throat ripped out." With Derek's teeth.

Lydia sighed. "You think I look forward to Peter's reaction? One violent encounter was more than enough, thank you."

"Okay, you win. I'll do the telling. But not yet. I have a few more leads I want to look into first."

Lydia was fully aware that he didn't have any leads to look into, but gave him a couple of days to find some, or gather up the courage to talk to Derek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has left lovely comments. You are all wonderful and I appreciate your kindness :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is [probably] the only chapter that is deserving of the M rating. And it's only a light M, so don't get your hopes too high.

More often than not, Stiles found himself going to bed alone and waking up distinctly _not_ alone. Derek, in more ways than one, reminded him of a puppy. ' _I got lonely so I decided to come find you_ '. Did he have nowhere better to be than in Stiles' bed? He wasn't complaining, of course. He kind of like waking up with Derek. Definitely liked it.

"Go back to sleep," Derek mumbled.

"Whyyy?"

"Because it's Sunday and there is no need to be awake this early." He wasn't sure just how early it was, but judging by the still dark sky it was pretty early.

"But I _am_ awake."

Derek grumbled and snuggled closer, burying his face in his chest. Actual, honest to god puppy dog Derek.

"Hey, I don't know if you knew this, but it's kind of hard to breath with a deadweight on your chest."

"You complain a lot for someone who should be sleeping."

" _You_ complain a lot for someone who hijacked _my_ bed."

Derek pulled his head of Stiles' chest and pouted.

"Which is not to say that I don't want you in my bed. 'Cause I totally do." Stiles pecked him on the lips.

"That's what I thought."

Stiles was really quite fond of sleeping morning kisses, so when Derek kissed him back, Stiles turned on his side to deepen the kiss. Which was all fine and good until Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles' hips to pull him closer, and suddenly Stiles had no idea where to put his hands or his arms or his legs or really anything for that matter. Improvising, he shifted around, scowling at Derek when he laughed at his flailing mess of limbs, until Derek was on his back and Stiles was straddling his hips.

"Better?" Derek asked.

"Mm. Much." Stiles returned to biting Derek's lower lip.

Derek's hands, which had started somewhere in the area of Stiles' thighs, were rapidly making their way under his shirt and up his back, pulling the shirt up. Stiles' pulled back just enough for Derek to pull the shirt over his head, then immediately went back to sucking on his collarbone. Derek rarely slept with his shirt on, which was something Stiles both loved and hated - because _come on_ those muscles made Stiles feel like a puny, crushable insect by comparison, but also, hey, those muscles were in his bed and just begging to be admired... with Stiles' tongue. Derek, much to Stiles' pleasure, let out a moan.

Suddenly, Stiles was the one lying on his back and Derek was towering over him, looking like he was going to devour him in a really awesome way. He grinned up at him before rolling his head back, exposing his neck, which Derek hungrily bit. Not hard enough to draw blood, but definitely enough to leave a mark. For a moment, Stiles was disappointed that any marks he had made on Derek would fade quickly, if they hadn't already, but that disappointment was gone when he realized that Derek was just as hard as he was. And now there was grinding. Yes, grinding was good.

He arched up, determined to have their bodies touching as much as possible, and decided that _fuck_ they were both wearing way too much clothing.

Derek didn't sleep in his shirt, but for some baffling reason, he did sleep in his jeans and belt, which was going to make getting his pants off _so_ much more difficult than it needed to be. So while Derek's mouth roamed around his neck, Stiles' hand fumbled with stupid buttons and-

"Stop."

Derek pulled away and Stiles rolled out from under him. There was a soft _thud_ as Derek fell into the mattress.

"Sorry," Stiles said, sitting on the edge of the bed with his face in his hands.

"S'okay," Derek said.

"You must think I'm a total freak."

"You _are_ a total freak. But not for this."

"Sorry," he said again.

"Stop apologizing," Derek said, sitting up. He put his hand on Stiles' shoulder comfortingly.

"Sorry." Stiles took a deep breath and laid back down on his side, still facing away from Derek.

"Do you want me to leave?" Derek asked.

Stiles shook his head and took Derek's hand, intertwining their fingers. "No."

Derek nodded and laid down next to him, not letting his hand go. "Are you okay?"

Stiles didn't answer.

Several minutes passed, during which Stiles wished that he could just fall asleep and pretend this hadn't happened, or else that the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

What happened instead was this:

"No, I'm not okay," he finally said, getting out of the bed. "This isn't fair to you. Or me. But it's so much more unfair to you. So I'm going to tell you the truth. Please don't hate me." He couldn't help but wonder exactly what thoughts were going through Derek's mind before he said

"I'm not your Stiles."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM TERRIBLE.  
> I am so sorry guys, I meant to have this up ages ago, but life caught me by surprise. I haven't had time to write for several days, so I wasn't even thinking about the fact that I still have a few chapters to upload. So here is chapter 11 :)

Derek was, not surprisingly, pissed, once Stiles got around to explaining the truth to him. He didn't hurt him, or even threaten him. He just stared at Stiles, first like a wounded animal, then an angry beast. And then... he left.

It was 6:03 am, and Derek walked out of the house like he didn't care who saw him.

"Did you guys have a fight?" Stiles' mom asked, poking her head into his room a few minutes later. Because, apparently, she knew about them? That hadn't been in Lydia's packet.

"Something like that," Stiles said distantly.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly."

"Want a hug?"

"Yeah."

He let himself be wrapped up in her arms, clinging tightly to her. He didn't cry, though he wanted to; he had decided that no more tears would be shed because of this stupid backwards universe.

"Thanks mom," he said. He didn't want to let go of her. All the shit he hated about this universe, being trapped here with people he hardly knew, being estranged from the people he loved most... hugging her made all of it worth it.

But the truth was, as much as he missed his mom in his world, and wished she was still with them, she didn't feel like home. She felt like a trade-off. If he let himself accept this universe, he felt like he would be giving up everything he had with his dad, and that wasn't what he wanted.

"You gonna be okay?" she asked.

"I think so." He pulled out of her hug. "I'll make it all okay."

"Damn right you will."

He had not idea _how_ he would make it all okay. Telling Derek had kind of been his last shot, in terms of getting some real information, and now that resources was completely gone.

Except that, apparently it wasn't.

That night, a little after sunset, Claudia came upstairs and tapped at his open door.

"What's up?" Stiles asked, looking away from his computer only long enough to see that it was her. Not that his research was getting him anything he hadn't already read a dozen times.

"Derek's here. Should I let him in?"

"Derek's here?" Stiles asked, confused for a moment. "I mean, yeah. Send him up."

Derek stood in his doorway, staring at the ground, for a full three minutes before he said something. "If you're here, where is my Stiles."

Stiles opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. "I'm not even sure if he exists."

Derek's eyes flashed amber. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not even sure if this place is real. Lydia and I have several theories, but one of them is that this whole world is just a dream of sorts. If that's the case, then you're just a figment of our combined imaginations, and your memories of your Stiles are just further fabrications of the dream. Or hallucination, whatever."

"It feels real to me."

"That's exactly what a hallucination would say. Trust me, I have experience with these things."

*

Stiles wasn't entirely sure how it happened, but three days later, She found himself, Lydia, and Derek in his room with dozens of lore books from the Hale library, in addition to several hundred pages they had printed off the internet in the previous weeks. Slowly, the printed pages were finding their way into the recycling bin, as they were disproved by the books.

"I wish we had access to these back home," Stiles said. "They would be _so_ helpful sometimes."

"Why don't you?" Derek asked.

Stiles frowned and chose not to answer.

"In fact, you haven't told me much of anything about your universe."

Lydia and Stiles shared a look of apprehension.

"It's probably better if we don't tell you anything," Lydia said.

"Why?"

"Because it's not your world. Trust me when I say, sometimes knowing what your life _could have_ been... it's more of a curse than a blessing."

Derek didn't seem so sure. Stiles and Lydia were so set on getting out of this universe... that meant their universe had to be better, right?

*

"Are you going to tell him the truth?" Derek asked when Lydia got up to leave for her _date_ with Peter.

Lydia frowned. "I don't know. I know I should, but." She shook her head. "How do you think he'll react?"

"Honestly, I don't know."

"Yeah. Neither do I. I'll see you guys later."

"They're not together in your universe, are they?" Derek asked once she was gone.

"Nope."

"Do you think she'll tell him?"

"I think she might, but part of me still hopes not. I have a little more trouble acknowledging that there is a pretty big difference between the Peter here and the Peter there. I just worry that his reaction might be... more than she can handle."

"You act like he... like he's bad."

Stiles shrugged. "He certainly isn't good. Reluctantly helpful, at best. And her history with him is pretty bad." He yawned and leaned back against the bed, his eyes closed.

"You should get some sleep."

"I'll sleep when I'm home. Hey, question. When I first told you about... all this." He blushed slightly at the memory of what was happening right before the truth bomb. "What did you think I was going to tell you? Because you looked like you were expecting something."

"That you were sleeping with Danny or something," he said. It seemed silly, in hindsight.

"Is the truth better or worse?"

"Honestly? I don't know."

"Well, you're taking it all pretty well. Better than expected."

"How would your Derek have reacted?"

"Probably would have had me locked up. Or killed. Okay, maybe not killed. But definitely locked up. And I can guarantee he wouldn't have believed me when I said I am Stiles, just from another universe. He has some trust issues."

"Your Derek sounds like a jerk."

Stiles shrugged. "It's kind of understandable when you look at his history. On top of that, I was possessed last year, so it's not something any of us really take lightly. And he's not _my_ Derek. I mean, I wish, but he's so-" he made a mocking grumpy face. "Besides, I'm pretty sure he's not interest."

"Well then he's a jerk _and_ an idiot."

Stiles smiled. That was actually kind of flattering. "So the question now is: why are you helping us?"

"I wan my Stiles back. The way I see it, the only way that's gonna happen is if I help you guys get home."

"Thanks. You know what, maybe I will take a nap," he said, climbing onto the bed, not bothering to pull back the covers. He turned the TV on. Whatever channel he was last on was now showing a Buffy marathon, so he left it. "You can stay and keep reading, if you want. Unless you have somewhere else to be."

"No, I'm good here."

Stiles nodded and started to drift off, half listening to the TV. It was an episode about werewolves, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter feels kind of like a lot happened in a very short time... sorry.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this might be the last update for a couple weeks. This sucks, I know, but I have a lot of schoolwork coming up, and not a lot of free time for writing. I'll do what I can, when I can, but we may just have to wait a while. Sorry!

Stiles wasn't sure how long he was asleep, or if he ever _really_ fell asleep, but a while later he found himself faintly aware of Dawn's voice whining out of the TV. Stiles groaned and rolled over to find the remote, intent on turning the volume down, but instead found a half asleep werewolf lying next to him, watching the party preparations going on in the Summers house. He decided against adjusting the volume and instead closed his eyes, letting his mind wander. What was this episode about again?

He sat up suddenly, startling Derek.

"What?"

Stiles shot out of bed and sat down in his desk chair so fast that it rolled several feet past his desk, and he was left with his arms out flailing to grab on an pull himself back.

"Stiles, what are you doing?"

"Vengeance demon," he said. "In this episode, Halfrek traps them all in the house because Dawn makes a wish."

"I know, I've seen it."

"Have you seen an episode in season 3 called 'The Wish'?" Stiles asked. He grabbed his phone and dialed Lydia.

"Probably. This was one of Laura's favorite shows when we were younger. But you'll have to remind me."

"Okay, you know Anya? The first time we see her, she's a vengeance demon who _grants wishes_. Cordy wishes that Buffy had never come to Sunnydale, and when Anya grants the wish, an entirely new reality is created." He frowned at his phone when Lydia didn't answer, and called again. "It's just like- Lydia, hi."

" _What is it, Stiles?_ "

"You remember the witches we were after? And the genie?"

" _How could I forget?_ "

"Right. The genie - was she wearing an amulet? Or a gaudy ring? Any kind of jewelry, actually."

 _"Maybe, I don't know. Why?_ "

"Try to remember, please."

Lydia sighed and thought about that night. " _Actually, there was something. A broach. I remember thinking 'I'm going to get killed by a freak with an ugly fish pin'. Why does this matter?_ "

"I'll explain later. Sorry if I interrupted your date!" He heard her start to reply, but it was too late, he had already hung up. He turned his attention back to Derek, who was now sitting on the edge of Stiles' bed. "Our pack was tracking a group of witches who showed up around the same time that people started disappearing. We were at their campground when we ran into the genie and landed ourselves in your universe. Those disappearances? All people who had gotten away with a crime. Sounds an awful lot like our friendly vengeance demon, doesn't it?" he asked, pointing at the TV, which was focusing on a human-form Halfrek. "Do you think it's possible?"

Derek thought about it for what seemed like an eternity. "Say that it is. What do we do?"

"Well, in Buffy-verse, the only way to undo a wish granted by a vengeance demon is to destroy the demon's power source. That's why I asked about jewelry. It's worth a shot, right?"

Derek nodded. "I only see one problem. How do we track down a demon we've never seen in this universe?"

"Yeahhhh I haven't figured that out yet."

*

As it turned out, tracking a vengeance demon wasn't going to be terribly difficult.

"Hüldara," Peter corrected. "They don't like the word 'vengeance' and they're not demons. They're old Norse spirits, tricksters, kind of. Though, more recently they've started using their power to get justice for those who were wrong."

Stiles looked at Lydia. "If Supernatural and Buffy the Vampire Slayer had a child, this would be it. Our life is a SuperBuffy love child."

Lydia rolled her eyes and said to Peter, "You know how to find them?"

"Of course. If your Hüldara is in the Guild, which it sounds like she is, it should be a piece of cake. I'll need something identifiable though."

"She had scales," Stiles said, indicating the face region.

"Stiles. They are _literally_ a race of mer-people. I'm gonna need more than _scales._ "

"Fish pendant," Lydia said. "Gold with blue stones."

"Better. Was she targeting specific crimes?"

"Obviously not," Stiles muttered, earning a glare. "No, she did not target specific criminals. Murderers, rapists, wife beaters, innocent 17 year olds. Didn't seem to make a difference."

"Well, I guess we'll just have to hope that's enough. Derek, help me move the furniture against that wall. Lydia, there are candles in the hall closet. I need one red, two blue, one green, and one white."

“What should I do?” Stiles asked.

“Stand there and try not to break anything.”

Stiles looked around. “What would I even break, dude?”

“Okay, now what?” Derek asked when the chairs and tables were all piled on the couch at one side of the room.

“Now I do something Talia will probably kill me for,” Peter said, pulling a box cutter out of his pocket. “She hates it when I do this.” He went to the wall opposite the furniture pile. He took the cutter to the carpet, cutting away just enough to get a grasp on it and start pulling it up from the floor.

“And you’re tell _me_ not to break things?!” Stiles exclaimed as Peter rolled the carpet up, revealing the concrete below. “Dude, why is there a pentacle painted under your carpet?”

“Always prepared for a good satanic ritual.” That did nothing to reassure Stiles.

Once the pentacle was completely uncovered, Peter placed a candle on each of the points, lit each of them, and started chanting in Latin. Stiles looked to Lydia for a translation.

“It’s a summoning. For someone called… Hothtartus.”

A cloud of smoke filled the room, causing Stiles to cough. When it dissipated, there was a fish-like man standing in the pentacle.

“Petros! My old friend,” the man shouted happily. “What can I do for you? Have you been wronged by the pretty girl I’ve heard so much about.”

Peter smiled. “No. I’m not seeking that kind of justice. I’m actually looking for one of your Hüldara. She granted a wish and there have been unexpected consequences.”

“You know we don’t undo wishes.”

“This wish went against your code. It should never have been granted in the first place. The wisher was not wronged, and the wish was stolen. She did it not for justice, but as a distraction.”

Hothtartus sighed. “I think I know the one you speak of. Unfortunately, I’m not sure how much help I can be. She was banished from our guild last week for turning on one of her sisters. But I can give you her name and the area where you might find her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like it's another round of 'We should have asked Peter for help the moment we realized there was a problem'.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even begin to describe how much I don't like how this chapter turned out. It took forever to write, and I'm still not happy with it. Sorry guys.

With the name of the Hüldara under their belt, finding her turned out to be a piece of cake.

"So if this works," Stiles said from the backseat of Peter's car ('It's not a mom car and if you say that again, I will hit you.')

"It'll work," Lydia said. "It has to, right?"

"It might work," Peter said. "I've never actually had to undo a Hüldara's wish, and they don't exactly go around telling people how.  You're guess is as good as mine."

"If this works," Stiles said again, leaning forward to look at Derek. "I left a message for your Stiles on his computer. Make sure he watches it?"

"Okay."

"Lydia, do you have anything you'd like to say to your alter ego?"

Lydia didn't have anything too important to say, other than maybe 'sorry for sleeping with you boyfriend,' but she didn't get the chance to say even that before someone jumped out in front of the car. Peter spun the wheel hard, but it was too late, they were already colliding with the-

No, wait.

Whatever they hit had done more damage to them than they did to it. The front of the car was completely smashed in. For a moment, Peters only reaction was to gape in shock. How dare they.

A second later, they were all climbing out of the car.

"Gunnhilda, I presume," Peter said to the uninjured woman standing in the street. Her face shifted, revealing her blue-grey scales. There may have been gills. "Damn, you _are_ ugly."

"Did you little wish not go quite the way you wanted?" she asked, getting a little too to Stiles. Derek moved in to attack, but Peter had already grabbed her by the neck and slung her into the pavement.

But she was stronger than expected. She was back on her feet in an instant, and the silver blood on her cheek was already disappearing. "You all should know better than this. I can't ungrant a wish because you change your mind. and even if I could, I wouldn't. This place is just too fun."

Derek ran at her, fangs and claws bared. She easily overpowered him, landing him on his back with a painful sounding _crack_.

"She's too... strong," Peter said as he tried - unsuccessfully - to take her down.

"Oh, Stiles!" Lydia exclaimed. "Do that thing."

"Oh right." Stiles had almost forgotten the small jar he'd been carrying almost since he'd arrived in bizarro world. He fumbled with it, nearly dropping it once it was out of his pocket.

"You think your little jar of dirt can hurt me?"

"Of course not," Stiles said. "It's just a jar of dirt. But it can contain you." He threw the jar at the ground, shattering it at her feet. It shaped around her, trapping her in a small circle. She coughed as some of the dust entered her lungs. "My own special blend. Mountain ash, wolfsbane, mistletoe, and half a dozen other things all self-respecting creatures of the night should steer clear of. Kind of smells nice too, don't you think."

"No it doesn't," Peter and Derek said in unison.

"You know I can break through this, right?" the Hüldara said in a condescending tone. She pushed her hands against the barrier created.

"Eventually, yeah." Stiles reached out and pulled his fish pin off her blouse. "But all I needed was this." He dropped it, then with all the force he could, stomped his heel into it. They could all feel the wave of magic that came out of the shattered stones, but-

"Nothing happened," Lydia said. "We're still here."

The Hüldara laughed. "Did you _really_ think it would be that easy?"

"Actually, yeah," Peter said.

" _I'm a goddess,_ " she said, her voice almost a roar. " _You can't unmake me._ "

"It did something though. You all felt that, right?" Lydia asked.

"Something did happen."

"It doesn't matter you idiots," the Hüldara said. "This is only part. When I granted your wish, you both, as well as I, were brought to this universe, but only _part_." She let out an exasperated sigh at their looks of confusion. "You're all so simple." Rather than explain herself, as any good supervillan would, she forced the circle of dust outward, showering them all in it. In the blink of an eye, she had disappeared.

*

"I can't believe it didn't work," Stiles said. Without a car, they had to walk to the nearest town. "I was so sure."

"It was just a theory," Lydia said. "We'll figure something else out. Peter, any ideas?"

"No, but I do have a question: _what made you think this concoction was a good idea_?" He and Derek had been itching non-stop since being showered in the mountain ash mixture, and no amount of scratching seemed to help. In fact, it seemed to be making things worse. Lydia frowned.

"Sorry," Stiles said. "I never intended to use it on either of you."

"Stiles," Lydia said, alerting them all to the fact that she had stopped walking.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"I'm not itchy."

"Yeahhh?" Stiles clearly didn't see what she was getting at.

"I'm covered in that stuff, its in my hair, my shoes, my bra. But I'm not itchy. Last time I touched a _drop_ of the stuff, I was covered in blisters."

"You're still human here. But we already knew that."

"But, but until now I hadn't really considered... we're occupying these bodies, but they aren't ours. So if we're in here... where are _our_ bodies?"

"...Still in our universe."

"Hello, hi, werewolves out of the loop here. What do you mean _still human_?"

Stiles and Lydia both ignored him.

"She said we were brought to this universe, but only _part_ ," Stiles said. "So if we're split between here and there... maybe she is too. We broke her power source here, but not over there."

"How do we do that?"

Whatever answer Stiles may have had was lost when he hit the ground, unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still have not had time to get any writing done, and this was the last chapter I have written... I'M NOT FINISHED YET I SWEAR. I have finals in two weeks, once they're finished I promise I will get back to this.


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